Halo: End Game
by CRSPYwalrusTaco
Summary: Read The Story to find out. (don't you just hate this summary !LOL!)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Here we go**

"Go god damn it! Move you stupid son of a-…"

The Marines all looked in horror at the spot where their Sargeant had been standing. Nothing was left but a black area, flecked with gore. The Covenant Phantom's plasma cannons loaded to fire again. They didn't need any more incentive to get the hell away.

They made it to the Warthog, and barely had time to escape before it started firing again. "Dammit! Radio to HQ Private!" yelled the Corporal from the Gauss turret. Private Anderson from the passenger side fumbled with the comm., and finally radioed in. "This is Platoon 14, we have six KIA and two WIA. We need evac, pronto! Our location is Grid Kilo 57, do you read?"

"Negative Private. That is a restricted airspace. What direction are you going?"

Anderson fumbled with the GPS. "North!" he announced over the whine of the Warthog's engine. A plasma cannon rained down from overhead; a Banshee.

"Listen carefully. Keep going in that direction for a few minutes, and you'll reach an area where we can pick you up. I'm marking it as a NAV indicator on the GPS. Hurry Platoon 14." the link clicked off. Meanwhile, Corporal Marley was firing the Gauss magnetic shells at the Covenant Banshee. He had managed to blow off one of the wings, but it was still in the air, and it was launching deadly radioactive fuel rods. One landed about twenty feet ahead, leaving a huge dent in the ground. They got launched up about six feet in the air.

Finally, Anderson managed to load the M40 launcher and locked on. "Sayonara dickweed!" he roared, releasing the trigger. The Banshee tried to dodge to the right, but the homing rocket hit it dead-on. The smashed bits fell to the ground.

The NAV indicated they were only about a mile from the spot. "Come on, come on!" muttered Private Jaimes under his breath. "What happened to the Phantom?" he asked. It was hovering right above them quietly. Anderson noticed the shadow it cast first. "Son of a bitch!" he looked up and fired at the cannons. Two fell off as the dropship rocked. The rocket had left a medium sized hole in the center of the bottom of the ship. The last cannon fired at them, and hit Anderson. His scream was drowned out by the hiss of his flesh burning as he fell out.

Marley cursed and shot the second-to-last Gauss shot. It flew true and hit the inside of the Phantom. It killed off the gorilla-like pilots, and sent the ship crashing into the dirt. They drove on. The Pelican looked like it was about to take off without them. They drove in behind it and jumped out, running into the passenger compartment.

Back at HQ, about 0700 hours

After a shower and a meal, the two Marines tried to forget the events of last night. They were joined by the resident Spartan there. His code name was Spartan 382. They, like most Marines, were a little uncomfortable around the armored warriors. But they were a little used to him by now. It was a little better without the armor. "How are you two holding up?" he asked.

"Fine." they replied at the same time.

"I know what it's like you know. To lose fellow soldiers."

He stood up and walked away, leaving them alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

This Duty Station

Delta Base was a strongly held position. With over five hundred Marines, and a battalion of ODSTs, it was virtually untouchable. Figure in the three Spartans, who were all SIIIs, it was indestructible. It was a large base, sure. But given its location, the only possible thing the Covenant could do would be to glass Earth. And recent events had made it clear they weren't about to do that. After the initial attack, the Admiralty had figured if they were going to destroy Earth, they would have.

That or, they were simply caught off guard. This was exactly what Spartan 382, Ryan, was thinking. The multiple replays and vids he had studied extensively proved that the Covenant had no idea that Earth was the human home planet. In fact, he had reason to believe they thought it was Reach.

But when he had voiced his personal opinion to General Strauss and the brass, they dismissed this as a theory and nothing more. Except for Fleet Admiral Hood, who had stopped and talked with him briefly after the hearing. He seemed to agree with Ryan's opinion.

The Spartan pushed his mental dilemma aside and focused on his task at hand. The Covenant fleet, with a Prophet in tow, had landed on Earth, again. Only this time, the fleet was even larger than the one that had obliterated Reach. Some of the SIIs had made it back, to their delight.

One was currently on their way here, for additional command. In fact, they should be arriving today, if nothing went off without a hitch. Meanwhile, he was making some contact with the High Command. "Sir, due to recent Covenant activity in the region, the area obviously is going to be under siege, maybe overrun. If that is the case, I recommend we either evacuate, or get reinforcements. I have reason to believe that maybe the entire Covenant armada will be here. Requesting orders, sir!"

He waited for almost two minutes while they thought this over in hushed voices. Finally, Colonel Ackerson radioed to him. "I regret to inform you, Spartan 382, that your request for reinforcements is impossible to fulfill. We are shorthanded, and engaged elsewhere." There didn't seem any regret whatsoever in the Colonel's voice. More like glee. "We also do not give you permission to evacuate. That area is too important to lose, so you have no option but to defend it and hope for the best. My…apologies if this may be inconvenient to you.

"Yes, sir. Understood, sir. Spartan 382 out." He clicked off the COM, feeling ice rush into his veins. They couldn't call in reinforcements. Evac was not an option. So they would stay and fight.

0300 HOURS

SPARTAN HELD BASE

EARTH

"And how large is the Covenant force?" he asked the scout. He hesitated, and then said in an awed voice. "I've never seen anything like it sir. There were easily over a thousand of them. Brutes and Jackals mostly. No Elites. But there were these strange aliens. Never seen them around." "Let me see your video feed, Corporal." The noncom handed him the helmet's vid.

The Spartan popped it into one of his slots. He fast-forwarded it to the armada. A thousand were easily moving through the adjacent canyons. "ETA?" he asked during an intermission. The noncom shook his head. "At the rate they were going, I'd say about two days. The only reason I got back so quick was because it was only me on my Mountain Lion." The Spartan nodded and observed the creatures from the vid. Pausing it and using the zoom feature, he made mental notes. Covered with coarse hair, like the Brutes, and a tad taller than a Jackal. They were muscular, though not on the scale of a Brute, or even an Elite. These were fast SOB's, he could tell that much from the way they moved around, and were in a position of command.

He finished the vid, gave it back to the Corporal, and headed to the main control center. Going over to the PA, he clicked it on. "Everyone, this is Second Lieutenant Spartan 382. There is a Covenant armada heading our way. No reinforcements will be arriving, so we need to get battle ready and alert by 1200 hours. I want our Scorpions up and running, and the Longswords as well. You will receive further instruction later, and until then you will answer to Major Harper, Spartan 298, Spartan 362, and Spartan 382. 382, over and out.

He himself headed towards the armory, and was quickly joined by 298 and 362, or Christa and Sara.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: John**

0800 Hours October 2, 2552 (Military Calendar)

Aboard Forerunner Ship

Sol System

Master Chief braced himself against the wall. He heard Admiral Hood say, "It isn't one of ours, take it out." He quickly keyed on the FLEETCOM. "This is Spartan 117. Can anyone hear me, over?" "Isolate that signal! Master Chief! You mind telling me what you're doing on that ship?"

John stood up straight. "Sir, finishing this fight." He proceeded deeper into the ship, checking his munitions. His M90 had only seven rounds left in it. He still had plenty of ammo for the Magnums, and his BR55 still had three and a half reloads left. He slung the scatter gun and held his battle rifle.

He had one fragmentation grenade left, and three captured plasmas, along with a combat knife. He paid close attention to his motion tracker.

"Chief, what are your intentions?" asked the Admiral. "There is one last Prophet on this ship. I intend to kill it, sir." He continued slowly. "Sir, I don't recommend that we stay on the COMM system; the Covenant could be triangulating on my signal.

"Roger that. I'll send some Marine support. Be careful Chief. " The Spartan clicked off his COMM system.

A large red blip appeared on the tracker. Two large blips that could only be Hunters. Moving towards the door in front of him. He ducked and rolled out of the way, crouching behind a corner. The door opened, and the two massive aliens moved through, not even noticing him. He quietly pulled out a plasma grenade, primed it, and stuck it to the orange area on the first Hunter's back.

It blew the alien in half, and orange blood sprayed its partner. The remaining Hunter howled in rage and spun. It lunged forward and swiped upward with its shield. He quickly sidestepped and unsheathed the knife. He jammed it into the alien's back, and dragged it out the side.

The alien screamed and tumbled into a pool of its own blood. He made sure it was dead by slicing its neck as well.

Suddenly a very loud explosion went off; shaking the room he was in as he started to proceed onward. The Chief kept his balance, and shook his head. The Marines probably. Using C4 on the nose of the Pelican dropship, straight into the ship. The Spartan could hear the muffled yells of a Sergeant giving rapid fire orders. Going back, he found the crashed Pelican. There were black armored ODSTs crawling out of the wreckage.

He hurried over to help them out. Two had died in the crash, and one was wounded. The others were reasonably fine, seven in all. They were heavily armed-as one would expect if they were on a recon mission such as this.

Carefully and regretfully he stripped the dead Marines of ammo, grenades, and a rocket launcher. As he reloaded his shotgun and pumped it, he paced over to the SFC, who was checking the other Helljumpers. The noncom immediately snapped to when he saw the Master Chief. "At ease." he said. "We better get moving Marines. There's a lot to be done if we want to take this ship. Hand signals from now on." They nodded in affirmation.

He suspected under those black visors, however, they were probably terrified. But these were ODSTs, the best in the UNSC. Rock solid, and green to the core. But they still had their limits. He was about to reach his own, but he set his exhaustion aside. He had a duty to fulfill.

He slung the shotgun, and held his battle rifle at the ready. Carefully he looked left and right as he walked into what was undoubtedly enemy territory. The Covenant didn't know he was aboard the ship yet, else they would be on high alert. He intended to use this advantage as long as possible. They did however, know about the Marines. Unless they assumed the Pelican crashing into the Forerunner ship had simply been a MAC round.

The Chief passed through yet another door and was plunged into darkness. He briefly considered using his flashlight, but instead chose to use the infrared filters in his HUD. Quietly he stopped the Helljumpers with an upraised fist. There were Brute patrol teams moving silently about, moving away this time, either out of luck, or coincidence. Either way, he intended to use this momentary opportunity to creep up, draw his knife, and was about to plunge it into the Brute's thick fur, when it jumped and started to run forward at a steady lope. He heard a sudden roar, and another of the beasts was screaming as it flew through the air with its body broken.

The Brute in front of him howled in rage and threw its plasma rifle to the floor. It lunged forward, flew around a corner, and jabbed lightning fast at the unseen Hunter. It obviously was successful in the swift frontal attack, because a loud thud was heard, and the larger beast fell to the ground.

_So they were still at war with each other_. A beam rifle shot was heard, and the Brute fell. He slowly approached the corner to take a look. He saw a squad of Elites, SpecOps mostly, with veterans and rookies thrown in. A white councilor type was leading the group, along with a lone Hunter. It was obviously enraged about its dead bond brother. The councilor was holding an energy sword, and the others were heavily armed, one even with a fuel rod gun. All in all, there were about eleven in the squad, excluding the Hunter. Add about five Grunts, and they were very powerful opposition. He felt confident that he and the ODSTs could take them out though.

He shouldered the M41, and rolled around the corner. Quickly he took aim at the white. About to pull the trigger when it held out its hand and barked, "Wait!" Only curiosity kept him from doing it anyway. That, and all the guns aimed at his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Open to Suggestions**

0830 Hours October 2, 2552 (Military Calendar)

Aboard Forerunner Ship, Sol System

John tensed to pull the trigger. He knew death would be instant, and would be fruitless. So he held his fire to see where this would go. But he was ever wary, still searching for a way to win.

_Winning isn't everything, the voice of Captain Keyes echoed in his head_. That had seemed like a lifetime ago, when he first heard that. He remembered his revelation of its meaning however long ago. Peace was the only other acceptable option. But it was still with reluctance that he lowered his M41.

But he was not utterly careless. He slowly took unclipped a grenade from his belt and hid it behind his back.

"Why?" he asked.

"Our fight is with the Jiralhinae, Demon, not you." replied the same Councilor Elite. "We despise you still for your destruction of our Sacred Ring, but we still recognize the strength of numbers, and the wisdom of working against a common enemy."

He continued, ignoring the snorts among his compatriots, who still had their weapons trained on his helmet. "Therefore, we are willing to set aside past differences, if you would be so kind as to work with us." his voice took on a slightly more casual tone. "The choice is yours. Lower your weapons." he added in a barking tone to the others. Slowly, all but one let their gun sights fall.

A Zealot approached from behind the Councilor. "This is most unwise, Holy Councilor. We should destroy him now, while we have the chance!"

"Still your voice Field Master Mananee! I am in command here, and I make the decisions." he growled. The junior officer looked as if he heavily disagreed with the Councilor, but had the intelligence to stand down, especially when he saw the officer Elite's hand stray to the now dormant sword handle. "Yes, Excellency." he muttered reluctantly.

The Master Chief's mind was racing. He had his doubts, but was slightly relieved when he saw this display. Of course, this didn't mean he was out of the hole yet. No matter what this Elite said, if he established himself as an enemy, he would be terminated instantly. So that did leave only one choice, one which he was more than happy to make, for it would mean less adversaries for him to battle. And could be the breaking ground for a peace treaty between the Humans and the Covenant. Or at least a half of it, from the looks of things. And wouldn't that be fulfilling his old mission besides? _Peace with the Covenant_…he couldn't imagine it after decades of war with them. But now, he knew what he must do, regardless of what he felt. _The Marines were not going to like this, that was for sure._

"I'll accept your offer." he finally said gruffly. The Elite relaxed a little; he realized it was tensed in anticipation. "I'll need to convey this with my own soldiers first." _Thank God for the translation software_, he thought.

The Councilor bowed his head briefly. "Excellent. But please be quick, Demon, we don't have much time."

John nodded and quickly jogged over to the Marines. _How will I explain this to them?_ "ODSTs, there has been contact made," he sighed. "with the Elites." he ignored the curses he heard. "Friendly contact. This may be our chance to take the fight to the Covenant. These next orders I will give you are to be obeyed without question. If you have any questions, ask them now."

A Corporal glared at him. "Ok, here's one. Why are we going to trust those bastards that are trying to exterminate the entire human race!"

"Because unless we do, I believe we are well and truly screwed, Corporal. We stand a better chance of saving billions of human lives if we put aside our hatred for the Covenant now, than if we take them head-on. Understood?"

The Marine paled, and weakly muttered, "Yeah, sir."

"Good. Now, under no circumstances are you to insult, or attempt to attack our new allies. The only exception to this is if they deliberately attempt to kill you. Got it?"

"Sir, yes sir!" yelled the other Marines.

"Come on then, we've got no time to lose!" he barked, and they were on the move again. They met with the Councilor and his team again, and there was some harsh glares exchanged.

The Chief marveled at this rare moment in history. Marines…working side by side with the Elites. It seemed too good to be true. The eight foot tall warriors turned, and giving only a nod of acknowledgment, ran down the hall, into the thick of it.

A brute jumped out from the side of the door. One Elite roared and threw a plasma grenade at the beast. The ignited grenade stuck to the Brute's thick fur and, as the alien gave a final scream, detonated. The explosion alerted the nearby Brute Honor Guards, who were armed with the trademark weapon of their species, the Brute Shot. Nobody ever said this was going to be easy.

"Marines, blow them to hell!" yelled the Chief as he shot his own rocket launcher. "Hell yeah sir!" they roared as one, firing similarly. The Elites stopped and watched in amazement as the Brute's pack of ten was obliterated almost instantly.

"A fine move Demon!" shouted the Councilor with jubilation.

"You can call me Spartan." he growled. "For honor then, Spartan!" the Zealot yelled as the Elites laughed. The Grunts collapsed with giggles. Even the Hunter emitted some low growls, which the Master Chief took to be chuckles. Even the Marines couldn't resist cracking a smile, and the Chief almost. He would have, if not for all that he had been through.

"Councilor? May I have a word with you?" he asked. The Elite nodded, and strode over to him. "What is it, Spartan?"

"We need to get more organized. If we hang loosely, then the Brutes will pick us off one by one." "Yes. What do you suggest?"

The Chief thought for a second, then replied, "The Marines with the rocket launchers," he pointed, "and your Hunter take point. I'll hang behind them, until my own launcher's expended. Your snipers work with mine, and fire over their heads. Cover them while they need to reload. They will take the right side of the formation. I want you to take the left and back sides and command them. We can't be too near; a lucky shot could take us both out. That will be the Marines and Elites that have short range weapons. They will move up on my word. Do you have any problems with this?"

"'Tis a fine plan Spartan. I have no problem wi-" The ship shuddered, and they both fell to the deck. "What in the name of our lords?" cursed the Councilor.

"The ship must be landing. We must go now, before it does and Truth escapes."

"What are we waiting for then? Let us go kill them all!" The two commanders went back and put the troops in their positions. "Go go go!"


End file.
